The Mighty Spot Conlon
by Scout73
Summary: He's the Mighty Spot Conlon...strong and fearless leader of Brooklyn...nothing can hurt him...right?


A/N: quick little one-shot story. Not that good. Anyway, this is supposed to be from Snitch's journal…I guess…whatever please R&R!! I need reviews…I never get any…

Disclaimer: I do not own any Newsies. I wish I did, I really do, but I don't. very sad I know.

From the journal of Justin "Snitch" Knoxx:

August 8, 1899 10:34 P.M.

We could tell something was wrong with him. He would randomly go into dazes, just forget what he was in the middle of saying and stare out into space. Sometimes he would sway a little, until someone would shake him back to reality. Now he was laying on Jack's bunk. We wouldn't let him sleep, for fear of him never waking back up. Every so often he would cough up some blood, and we would roll him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on the crimson liquid. He didn't come back to Manhattan by choice, more by coincidence. Jack was going for a visit to see his old friend. They had been talking and Spot has just collapsed. Jack carried his small body back to the lodging house and that is where he still lays. We all sit here silently, watching him to make sure he pulls through. Nobody knows how he got this way, but the dazes only started after the rally a month ago. Our best conclusion is that he got some sort of head injury, and probably internal bleeding. So now all we can do for our friend is wait and hope for him. 

August 9, 1899-1:12 A.M.

We fear that he is getting worse. The coughing is more often and with more blood. We have little confidence that he will make it to see another sunrise. Still, none of us will even try to sleep. We couldn't if we tried. Our friend is dying-how could we possibly sleep through that? Jack is talking to him softly, none of us could hear what he was saying, although most of us knew anyway. He was saying how Spot would make it, that he was the mighty Spot Conlon…how could he die? He couldn't. The determination in Jack's eyes showed us that he wasn't ready to give up his old friend without a fight. Jack stood up suddenly and told us to keep an eye on Spot. He ran out of the lodging house and out of the window we could see him take a left out of the door and down the dark street. We didn't know where he was going, but we hoped he would be back in time to say his last goodbyes to Spot.

August 9, 1899-2:45 A.M.

Its been over an hour and Jack still isn't back yet. Spot just started to cough and Skittery is turning him on his side. At 3:00 I take over the care giving. I'm dreading and anxious for it all at once. I don't want to have to watch my friend lay there and die while I sit helplessly by his side, but I want to at least try and help him be more comfortable. I try not to stare at the crimson blood staining his shirt and pillow. Skittery looks like he is going to retch himself. I think I'm going to start my shift 15 minutes early and let Skittery look at something besides blood.

August 9, 1899-4:00 A.M.

My shift is over. Spot tried to talk to me, tell me that everything would be alright, but he could only get a few words out before having a coughing fit. It was the same routine every time. A few words, coughing, blood, a few more words. The longest sentence he could get out was,

"Snitch…when's Jack comin back?" he started coughing again and when he finished he looked at me with those big blue eyes which had turned gray with weakness. I couldn't muster the strength to tell him that he might not make it back in time, so I told him that he'd be back real soon. I hope that he does come back soon.

August 9, 1899-4:20 A.M.

Jack just got back. He brought a doctor, and we're all waiting to see what he says. We don't thing that he can do anything, but we still hope.

August 9, 1899-4:25 A.M.

We have the news from the doctor. He said that there is internal bleeding (good work Sherlock, we already knew that). He said that there is nothing he can do. He gave Spot some pain killers, little good they will do now, and left. Jack sits on the edge of the bunk, tears streaking down his face. We are all crying. During the strike Spot had become a trusted leader. The Brooklyn newsies have just arrived with Blink who went to get them. They are standing around him giving their final ado's to their leader. We have done the same. Everyone has said goodbye and now we just sit here crying for our lost friend.

August 9, 1899-5:29 A.M.

Spot has just past. I was wrong. He did get to see another sunrise. Sixteen years old, meant to live for so much more, died in that pitiful state-just a month after we had seen him so alive. There will be no fancy funeral for our departed friend-just a newsie one. We will bury him later today in the public cemetery in Brooklyn. For now, we sit here sobbing. Never again will we get to see the fire that danced in those blue eyes that told us how much he loved being the Mighty Spot Conlon-Fearless Leader of Brooklyn. 

A/N: Yeah I don't know what possessed me to kill off one of my favorite characters…it just kind of happened you know? And if you review, I will give a shout out to you at the end of this story. Yes, I will update the whole story just for you.=D. I also used a line from a song, and if you can figure out what line that was and what song it was from, I'll give you a cookie!

Shout outs:

Braids-Thank you!! First reviewer!! It _is _fun to kill off your favorite character…lol lyl!!

Hope- Thank you! I would really love your pointers! Please email me back so I can change this horrible story soon!! Oh and I guess Spot just…stopped living? I really don't know why, because I made up some issue and I didn't really want to offend anyone by completely getting the issue wrong you know? Lyl!

Repeats- Oh you knew I killed him off…and I know your not upset! MbB!(Owu) lol. Thanks for reviewing…I don't know what else to do from the Diary of Snitch…if you got any ideas tell me…because that would help. (lol I'm talking to you like I don't talk to you everyday) lyl! CARRYIN DA BANNAH!! Lol we're such dorks. P.S. you weren't the first one to read silly duck! 

Nani at 12 o'clock- thank you! I tried to make him sound brave, and not just some wuss who got beaten up. I could imagine myself there too! I almost made myself cry while I was writing it…lol. Lyl thanks for reviewing!

Sunny Swift- Thank you! Lyl! 

Rae Kelly- Thank you! Unfortunately, I pretty sure that this story is going to stay a one-shot. Maybe I will write more from the "Diary O' Snitch", but that will be all of this nature of story. I would love to continue this story, but my idiot muses are being mean again and boycotting me. But thank you for your review! lyl

Padfootismyhero- Thank you! Wow I didn't know my writing was that good…lol. Spot's my favorite too! Him and Snitch, if you couldn't tell, lol. Lyl.

Saturday- Thank you! Hehe, normally I'm the one reviewing your stuff. I'm glad you liked my bloody descriptions. =D you're so cool! Lol lyl!

Thank you so much to all of you. I really appreciate all of your reviews! Everyone is sending me such good reviews, I'm going to get a big head and Repeats is going to be the one hearing about how much everyone loves me…or at least…my story. 


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